Another cornfield. Beautiful.
Peggy wove her way through what remained of the corn crops, the stalks standing at half-mast thanks to cooler December weather. She could see Alice sitting cross-legged up ahead in the sparse shade of a bare poplar tree, staring out at the flat farmland. Just like that afternoon in the school auditorium, she had no idea what she would say once she reached Alice. And this time, she didn’t have an audience to charm or a door to hide her face. It was just them, stripped down in this barren, unfamiliar place. Even the crisp breeze seemed to go still as she neared the younger girl, giving her even less of a cloak.
Without turning, she could feel Elliott watching her from the upstairs bedroom. Could feel him wanting to join them out in the field, if for no other reason than to make sure Peggy didn’t make any good-bye promises to Alice. Ones that he would try like hell to make her break.
Too bad. She couldn’t think clearly around Elliott, but outside, without his hard body pressed up against her, his words trying to tear down her resolve, her decision was a no brainer. She needed to run as fast and as far as she could. This hope kindling in her chest was bad news because the fall would be brutal. One more night. Just one more night with Elliott, and she would participate in the fund-raiser tomorrow and then hit the bricks. Maybe it wouldn’t be easy to leave knowing Elliott finally wanted to make them work, but she had the advantage of knowing what was best for herself now. That knowledge had to count for more than the only touch she’d ever craved, the only man who could make her heart go wild with a single look. Yeah, self-preservation had to rate higher.
Didn’t it?
The wind kicked up with such force, it shoved Peggy back a step, her foot crunching in a combination of grass and hay. Alice’s head whipped around in Peggy’s direction at the sound, her hunched-over figure tensing, an audible grumble leaving her mouth.
Steeling herself, Peggy wandered the final few yards and sat a safe distance away from Alice, both of them avoiding eye contact by playing with field debris, smashing the brittle pieces between their fingers.
“So listen,” Peggy started, anxious nerves sending her into a fidget spell. “I’m sorry you walked in on me smooching your dad. You can never unsee that.”
She could feel the resentment rolling off Alice like downhill skiers. “You and my dad use the same strategy when you talk to me. Like maybe if you treat me like an adult, I’ll just magically start acting like one.”
“And that bothers you?”
A derisive snort. “Oh, now we’re in school counselor mode.”
“Hey, you know what?” Peggy laughed without humor. “Here’s some advice. Lower your expectations for adults. We don’t know what the hell we’re doing, either. We might look older, but we’re still thinking and agonizing over our own version of locking ourselves in the school bathroom.” She pulled her jacket tighter around her body to brace against the cold. “I shouldn’t have been kissing your dad. I should never have kissed him in the first place. And there’s a chance it’ll happen again.”
“Why?”
“Because none of us are perfect? Because sometimes your heart gets the drop on your head? I don’t know, Alice. Take your pick.”
A full minute of silence passed. “I was supposed to be the angry one. You kind of stole my thunder.”
“Yeah, huh?” This time Peggy’s laugh was genuine, tumbling unexpectedly from her belly. “Sorry. It’s your turn now.”
Alice changed positions, drawing her knees up to her chest, wrapping both arms around her bent legs. “Are you staying or leaving?” Serious eyes landed on Peggy. “Cincinnati, I mean.”
“Leaving.” Dammit, she’d answered way too fast. “I don’t know if your father mentioned it, but we’re on our way to New York to fulfill my mother’s dying wish. And Bel…he needs me. He’s looking for his real father—he has a different one than the rest of us—and he’ll need a push sooner or later.” Trying to ignore the horrible coldness permeating her sternum, Peggy pulled off an easy shrug. “So you’ll be seeing the back of me soon enough.”
“You don’t have to put it like that,” Alice muttered.
Peggy had enough self-awareness to realize she was being flippant for her own sake, as well as Alice’s, but she also didn’t want to leave on the final leg of the road trip with Alice thinking she didn’t care. Or didn’t find the decision to never see her again difficult. “What I’m trying to say is, I understand. My mother dated after her divorce from our father. We hated every single one of them before they walked in the door. And you know what? She probably should have been more sensitive about that…and talked to us about it.”
She thought about what Elliott had said up in the bedroom, about seeing faults in parents, same as they saw the faults in their children. Loving them in spite of it. At the earliest opportunity, she was going to read the journal. She had nothing to lose. For once, seeing her mother’s final words on the pages didn’t inspire an army of termites to start nibbling at her stomach lining.
“My father talked to me about you,” Alice said slowly, breaking into her thoughts. “That’s how I knew he was serious. He never talks to me about anything.”
“Sounds like he’s trying to change that.”
“Yeah.” Alice scrutinized Peggy for long moments, her mouth screwing up tight, until she released an exodus of breath. “I’m really sorry for the name I called you,” she said with a tremor in her voice. “Even when I was saying it, I didn’t mean it. I was just surprised. My dad isn’t supposed to…date. And then you had to look like that, you know? Like he just became every guy in my school who wants to date the pretty cheerleader and I couldn’t stand it. My own father.” She swiped the sleeve of her coat beneath her eyes. “God, he must think I’m so underwhelming in every way.”
Peggy’s throat started to ache. Not only because of this young girl who didn’t realize her father’s love was unconditional, but also because her decision to leave had never seemed wiser. She’d wedged herself between the two of them, and she needed to wiggle her way free as soon as possible, before it caused lasting damage. “Well, I think you’re way off. Remember what I said about adults? We’re all dealing with our own shit. He’s probably just as worried you find him underwhelming.”
Alice scoffed. “The Kingmaker? Underwhelming?”
“Yeah.” Peggy gave a decisive nod, sympathy for Elliott like a rock in her stomach. “But try and have a little faith in him. He’s trying.”
The younger girl murmured something that Peggy couldn’t hear, but it sounded like only since you showed up. But before she could comment, footsteps approached them from behind. Peggy didn’t have to turn around to know it was Sage, each of her steps poetic and thoughtful. She entered Peggy’s line of vision and arranged herself with fluid movements on the ground. “The Tate family is lovely,” she said in her melodic voice. “But they’re giving me a rash.”
Alice shifted and regarded the third member of their pity party warily, the way she’d looked at Peggy when she’d shown up on her porch. “How did you two become friends? You look and act like total opposites.”
Peggy swiped a discreet hand across her neck. “That’s a story for a different day.”
“What do you mean by ‘total opposites’?” Sage said, tilting her head.
Alice shrugged. “In my school, you would be eating at different tables in the cafeteria.”
Sage’s curiosity still wasn’t satisfied. “Which table would I sit at?”
The younger girl’s mouth twitched at one end, reminding Peggy of Elliott in a good mood. “Probably the yearbook committee.”
Sage pursed her lips and slumped a little. “I was on the yearbook staff. It meant I could stay longer at school and avoid going home.” She jerked, as if the telling words had slipped out without permission, her eyes widening on Peggy. “You know. Because we had…a terrible Internet connection. The school’s was much better.” Her spine straightened, her lips curling into a smile, but Peggy wasn’t fooled for a moment and wanted nothing more than to launch herself at Sage, hold her close, and never let go. “I’ll have you know,” Sage continued, “that yearbook committee is the best-kept secret. Do you know how willing students are to trade favors for having the more flattering pictures of them included in the book?” She arched an eyebrow. “Very willing, indeed.”
Peggy couldn’t keep herself from laughing, but the joy didn’t reach her chest. “Sage, you secret con artist.” She laid a hand on Alice’s knee, feigning outage. “I had no idea who I was traveling with, Alice, you have to believe me. I was in the dark.”
“What’s another secret about you?” Alice asked, a smile threatening to bloom on her face. “Something else Peggy doesn’t know.”
A cold hand swept through Peggy’s bones at the way Sage’s features seemed to turn to stone as she stared out into space a moment. “I plan weddings because…when I was a child, I snuck into a wedding back home in…back home in the South.” The wind blew a strand of hair across her face. “And it was the first beautiful thing I’d ever seen before that day. And it was the last beautiful thing I saw for a really long time.”
Peggy reached a hand out toward Sage, but she moved lithely to her feet and clapped her hands, her serene expression back in place. “I have to get back. There could be more items selling.”
There was no choice but to watch her best friend leave, her petite figure dwarfed by the massive Indiana sky. The moment felt like a crossroads. Their journeys had intersected in California, but if Sage stayed true to her word, she would be heading off in a different direction soon. After her accidental slip about not wanting to go home as a child, Peggy wondered if Sage could be facing something bad. Something she would need Peggy’s help contending with.
Just as Peggy came to her feet, ready to go after Sage, Belmont stepped out from the Tate house’s shadows, pulling Sage into an embrace. It stopped Peggy from moving. Stopped time from moving.
Sage’s journey would always lead back to Belmont, wouldn’t it?
Where would hers lead?